


Your Eyes Are Enough to Remind Me

by MimiLaRue



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2884640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiLaRue/pseuds/MimiLaRue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan stifles another yawn and tries to steel himself against the soporific buzz of the party. He’s warm, these people are boring; it’s a bad mix for trying to appear engaged. Why is he here again? He glances over to the couch, where Dick is currently being yelled at by some guy, likely the boyfriend of the brunette who had just been mauling him. Oh yeah. His best friend was trying to cheer him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Eyes Are Enough to Remind Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OldLace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldLace/gifts).



> For [OldLace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldLace/pseuds/OldLace) in the Veronica Mars Holiday Gift Exchange 2014. The prompt was the song "If I Could Change Your Mind" by Haim. Here's what came out of it - hope you like it, m'dear!
> 
> Infinte props must be given to my beta and new favorite internet person [QuerulousGawks](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Querulousgawks/pseuds/Querulousgawks). The editing process with her was absurdly fun. Thank you, QG! (PS Her fics are ridiculously heartbreaking and funny - go read them immediately.)
> 
> Takes place during episode 3.09, “Spit and Eggs."

Logan stifles another yawn and tries to steel himself against the soporific buzz of the party. He’s warm, these people are boring; it’s a bad mix for trying to appear engaged. Why is he here again? He glances over to the couch, where Dick is currently being yelled at by some guy, likely the boyfriend of the brunette who had just been mauling him. Oh yeah. His best friend was trying to cheer him up.

He drags his eyes back to the girl standing in front of him. Can it really be called conversation if he’s not actually listening to her? Logan shifts his stance and tries one more time to tune in. She’s laughing at his absent replies and Mercer’s heavy-handed come-ons, but no – god, he just _doesn't care_. He had been so very wrong when he thought that flirting with a petite blonde would be a good idea. That it would do something to scratch the itch that he's felt since the other morning, when he tried to save himself by gnawing off his own arm. 

But then the real thing appears like the answer to a silent, buried wish, and this ersatz Veronica simply ceases to exist for him. Dimly he senses Mercer next to him, saying something, maybe directed at him, but that's nothing to him either. It's all just mist, and the only solid, real thing in his world right then is Veronica Mars. 

She looks good. No, fuck that, she looks _flawless_. He might have been the one with money, but shit, she’s always been out of his league. Her hair hangs down in a straight gold sheet – bangs too, so long they almost hide the wary, curious way her eyes take him in. 

She gives him a soft smile and starts to say something – and Logan has the oddest sensation of his brain hitting the pause button. Fast as a strobe light, images flash through his mind. So quickly they barely register, he sees 

_Veronica sitting in the LeBaron, tracking him in the school parking lot like a lioness deciding if he was predator or prey._

_Veronica under him in tangled sheets, tilting up at him and keening softly, her heart beating against his hands._

_Veronica tapping her foot in class junior year, Morse code she’d taught him so they could relay dirty messages to each other._

_Veronica smirking at him over her coffee cup on a stakeout._

_Veronica riding him in the back of his old Xterra, grinding down on him with purpose, biting along his jaw._

_Veronica smirking at him_ while _riding him, his favorite unholy mix of sex and snark._

 _Veronica in a pink dress. Veronica in a white dress. Veronica in a black dress._

As fast as they’d appeared – all in the time it took her to say “Hey” to him – the images are gone. He’s left feeling dazed, horny, sad and happy, all acutely, all in equal measure. In short, he is a mess, and all he can say back is, “Hey.” 

They stand there staring at each other dumbly for a minute, and he knows he is grinning like an idiot but he can’t seem to help himself. His mouth seems to be turning up in a smile on its own, his body still reacting to her like a flower twisting to its own personal sun.

It's bad for him, he can tell, talking to Veronica like this – feeling like they could eye-fuck their way back to each other in this very moment. But he’s never been very good at making the wise choice. Talking to Veronica right now is like doing that one extra shot at the end of the night that you know you is going to hand you your ass in the morning, but he can’t stop. He just wants to savor her proximity. He's going to fucking _bask_ in Veronica Mars for as long as she’ll let him or as long as he can stand it, whichever comes first. 

Mercer is saying something again, but it just sounds like Charlie Brown’s teacher with Veronica here drowning out all other frequencies. He’s pretty sure the dude wanders off after that. Whatever. 

He opens his mouth to flirt, to sit back and enjoy the back-and-forth that had always come so easy to them. But in the split second before he does, he remembers: he might have been the one to push the detonator, but Veronica laid the explosives a long time ago, even if she didn't realize it herself. And in the same sort of memory-strobe light, he sees 

_Veronica slipping her phone in her bag with a guilty sigh._

_Veronica screaming at him for just trying to protect her._

_Veronica seething with obvious, silent judgment when he asked her to trust him._

_Veronica not quite suppressing an eye-roll when she hears the word “Tijuana.”_

_Veronica accusing him of having fun that shittastic summer before senior year, when he and the PCH-ers had escalated their minor feud to full-blown war._

_Veronica hesitating, stammering, fumbling every time he said “I love you.”_

So he sighs inside and says what he knows she’s expecting, what he knows will irritate her, because this is where they are now. Maybe not forever, and maybe not as bad as it used to be, but all of a sudden he remembers that he’s tired of wearing his heart out in the open. “Well, let me guess. You're here because of the investigation?” 

Veronica looks annoyed - expectedly, probably rightly so, who knows anymore. “I am what I am.”

And at this moment – this moment where she’s exasperated and he’s defeated – he has another flash, this one just by itself, intense and gone before it’s even fully there. 

_Veronica in his arms, pressed up against a pillar. Her eyes needy, her breath coming in frantic gasps._

Whoa. Logan is left with twin feelings of desperation and of coming home – which to be frank, has always been how Veronica makes him feel, so he tries to shake it off. They've never even had sex up against a pillar. Wishful thinking, man. 

Then Piz and Wallace squeal around the corner, and he puts his game face on. Something’s going down, and Veronica might need him. He remembers how to do this too.


End file.
